


My Youth is Yours

by mountain_ash



Series: When We Met Before I Cannot Say [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Interpretation of Canon, Like real slow, Pining, Slow Burn, Stiles POV, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:57:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountain_ash/pseuds/mountain_ash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles discovers that Derek has returned to Beacon Hills and Laura is dead, every expectation he has for their eventual reunion is thrown to the wind. Instead he must learn who this older Derek has become all while pretending the werewolf means nothing to him, holding his developing feelings deep beneath the surface, and helping keep Beacon Hills safe. If that sounds like a perfect recipe for the anxiety riddled and skillfully deceptive Stiles you all know and love, you are certainly correct.</p><p>Now, to only get Derek to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! As promised on tumblr, I am writing a companion fic for my Casserole series from Stiles’s POV. I was originally going to post in Tumblr installments only but this is easier to keep track of the parts. The title comes from Troye Sivan’s song “Youth” which I think fits both Sterek and this fic beautifully. My lovely beta [thehyacinthgirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thehyacinthgirl) pointed out that this fic is confusing without reading Derek’s POV first, which is first in the series, so you should do that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally on [tumblr](http://a-mountain-ash.tumblr.com/post/150081972085/my-youth-is-yours-part-i)!

The morning Laura crept into his room was the morning his life truly changed.

“Stiles. Stiles, sweety. I need to talk to you.” Laura whispered urgently as she shook his shoulder. Stiles could hear her but he didn’t want to wake up.

“Ungg.” He groaned.

“Stiles. It’s important.” She said more forcefully, a strange power in her voice pulling him out of sleep.

“What?” Stiles asked, still groggy as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Derek and I have to leave, Stiles. We aren’t safe here and we have to go.” Her words were gentle, and Stiles could tell she was trying to soothe him but it was in vain. The simple thought of losing the older boy from his life so soon after he’d found him was horrific and tears sprang to his eyes before he could attempt to withhold them.

“Why?”

She sighed. “I don’t have enough time to explain all that, but it has to do with those special abilities you know Derek has. I came here to tell you something more important though. Can you focus on me?

Wide eyed and experiencing a rare inability to speak, Stiles nodded at her.

“I have special abilities, just like Derek, and he asked me to make you forget that you ever met us. He knows you’re lonely and doesn’t want you to feel abandoned again. We came last night while you were asleep and I pretended do it but I really didn’t. Do you understand?”

Stiles blinked a few times as his sleep addled brain tried to catch up. “I guess so. Why didn’t you do it?”

Laura grinned, seemingly amused again by his ability to accept the strange so easily. “Two reasons. I felt like I should have your permission. It’s not Derek’s place to choose what you do and don’t know.”

She stopped speaking before revealing the second reason and Stiles stared at her expectantly before prodding. “What’s the other reason?”

She bit her lip guiltily. “Derek asked me to erase his memory of you, and I did.”

“You what?” Stiles burst, the tears resurfacing at the devastating admission.

“I had to! Stiles, you have to understand that Derek is in a very bad place right now and he doesn’t believe he deserves to know you. I didn’t take your memories of him because I hope that someday you’ll meet each other again and you can help him get the memories back when he’s ready.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

She smiled and held a hand up in front of Stiles’s face. He gasped when sharp claws burst from her fingertips but he quickly became curious and poked one gently.

“My magic lets me keep his memories in these claws. When you think he’s ready to remember, all he needs to do is get me to give them back.”

“What makes you so sure we’ll meet again? I’m stuck here in Beacon Hills.”

“I’ll get him to come back here one way or another. Don’t you worry. I have to go now, sweety. Hopefully we’ll meet again.” She kissed the top of his head before sneaking back out through his window. Stiles watched after her, mystified, entranced, and utterly devastated. He was all alone again.

~~~~~~~~

The night he somehow ended up out at the burnt out Hale house lying through his teeth to his father was the night Stiles felt his tightly knit security blanket- six years in the making- falling apart at his feet. He hadn’t come here since the day Laura and Derek had left and now a murder investigation had unwittingly brought him back.

Why had he ended up here? How had half a dead body in the woods brought him once again straight into Derek’s life, even when Derek wasn’t here? Stiles had taken special care to stay away from this house, The Hill Lodge, and the Hale plot in the cemetery, but he’d been careless and the excitement of the hunt had distracted him from where he was going. Now the memories were surfacing and his heart hurt anew for his lost friend.

Stiles had a mantra for those times when the loss became too intense. Those two weeks between the anniversary of the memorial when he’d met Derek and the day Derek had left were usually the worst. His ADHD would flare up badly, his sleep would suffer, and his panic would rise. Other times were bad too though. The anniversary of his mom’s death was always horrible- not only because she was gone but because Derek wasn’t there to help him through it. His mantra was logical and blunt, designed to quell the irrationally strong emotional attachment he still held towards Derek. ‘I only knew him for two weeks. I have Scott, I don’t need another friend. He doesn’t remember me. He thought forgetting would be best for both of us.’

Stiles repeats it over and over as he drives himself home, needing it so fervently he finds himself actually saying the words aloud by the time he gets home. He would have to be careful.

The next morning Scott is telling him he got bitten by a wolf the night before and Stiles forces himself to believe that “there haven’t been wolves in California for 60 years.” He ignores the voice in his head that tells him ‘not normal wolves.’ Laura had never said exactly what she and Derek were but he’d seen enough of their abilities to puzzle it out. That evening after lacrosse tryouts where Scott almost went nuts, he’s somehow been dragged into the woods again, this time in search of Scott’s inhaler.

He repeats the mantra in his head as he tries to focus on Scott’s babble. It’s probably important, and he’s trying to make helpful replies but the mantra is too important. The Derekness of these woods is too strong.

“What are you doing? Huh? This is private property.”

The voice sends shock waves through his body that seem to simultaneously lock him to the forest floor and shoot him into the sky. Its tone is deeper, colder, aged, but the same rumble lies beneath its surface that always put Stiles at rest when Derek would ask him what kind of casserole it was today. This time though, it made Stiles anxious and afraid as he turned slowly, head dipped bashfully and hands shoved in pockets, to face the grown version of Derek Hale.

Time and pain had aged the boy he’d known far beyond the 22 years he would be now. Derek glares at them expectantly, no ounce of recognition in his face when he looks between the two teens and Stiles’s insides go cold. He’d told himself Derek wouldn’t recognize him countless times over the years, but he had never guessed the older boy- man, now- would look upon him with such ferocity. Stiles had always imagined Laura would arrange the meeting, cleverly bumping into him at some pre-planned grocery store or cafe, ready to introduce her brother to the sheriff’s son she met a few times at the station. He’d always imagined Derek would take to him just as easily as he had the first time and they would pick up where they left off.

In all Stiles’s years of mantras and preparations he never expected to find Derek staring at him so coldly, a bitter tightness to his jaw that not even the worst of Stiles’s panic attacks could soften. He stares at Derek’s mean, beautiful face a beat too long before replying the way he knows Scott expects him to, lie or not.

“Uh, sorry man, we didn’t know.”

Scott says something about his inhaler but Stiles is too distracted, taking in all that Derek has become. He’s taller, but not by much. Stiles is catching up quickly and he finds some strange satisfaction in that fact. Derek is clean shaven, but Stiles can see the shadow from a poorly done shave job. His jeans and leather jacket are too large, as though borrowed from someone taller. Remembering Derek’s sentimental nature, Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if they were clothes he had managed to salvage. The only thing familiar to Stiles about this Derek is the territorial posture and thick eyebrows.

Without warning, Derek reaches into his pocket and tosses the inhaler at Scott. The motion is too fast for Stiles to track, but Scott grabs the tiny device out of the air with ease and Stiles knows the bite is taking full effect. No recognition shows on Derek’s features, but Stiles can see the tiny glint in his eye and knows Derek sees what’s happening.

He wants to yell, ‘Why would Laura do this? Why would she bite Scott?’ because if Derek is here, Laura has to be here, but it doesn’t make sense to Stiles that she would bite a random boy hanging out in the woods. He doesn’t, of course, because that would open a can of worms he isn’t prepared to deal with at the current moment because his brain is currently fueled by swirling thoughts of Derek is standing in front of me and not only does he not remember me but he sees me as an insect and everything in Stiles’s body inexplicably hurts.

Before Scott can catch onto his expression, however unlikely that possibility may be, Stiles forces himself to turn away from Derek’s retreating figure and explain who he is, careful to smudge a few details in case he was still listening. Stiles being the sheriff’s kid could rationally know about Derek and the fire, but getting caught knowing too much wouldn’t make his promise to Laura any easier to keep.  

Between researching Scott’s rapidly blooming wolf problems and trying to stay on top of school before it becomes a problem of its own, Stiles manages to keep Derek mostly off his mind for the next few days. Okay, not really, but the thoughts aren’t bone-crushingly obsessive so he counts it as a success when he manages to finish his math homework with only a few forays into Facebook to see if Derek ever made an account. He didn’t, as far as Stiles can tell.

Stiles is determined to think good things about Derek, even though he has to ignore the niggling fear at the back of his mind that Derek might not be the Derek he knew anymore- the panic that six years may have ruined the older man beyond repair.

That Friday is Lydia’s big semester start party and through some miracle of Scott’s new association with Allison, Stiles has managed to make it through the doors. If only Derek weren’t behind those doors as well, looming in the shadows and making Stiles acutely aware of the full moon high in the sky. His heart thunders at the hardness in Derek’s face as he stands awkwardly behind a column addressing no one, drinking nothing, and staring fixedly at Scott. As Stiles observes him from the sidelines where he sits sipping punch, he realizes the werewolf is almost not even a person anymore, seemingly having forgotten all the usual human graces Stiles knew he had once possessed. His insides stir with a combination of fear and sadness as he realizes just how little he knows of Derek anymore.

Suddenly Scott is beginning to lose control and making weak excuses to Allison about having to leave early. Stiles watches helplessly as Scott runs away down the road and Allison watches after him, half confused and half angry. Derek is beside her in moments saying something Stiles can’t hear and then Allison is getting in his car. He’s torn between following Derek and finding Scott, but ultimately Stiles’s loyalty wins and he speeds over to Scott’s house.

When Scott half shifted and barricaded within his room tells Stiles that Derek is the one who bit him, Stiles reels. He wants to tell Scott that isn’t possible, that Laura is the alpha, that Derek doesn’t have the power to turn people, but he can’t. Logically he can’t because then Scott would wonder why he knows any of that information and then his secret would be out. Emotionally he can’t because he genuinely isn’t sure anymore. Where had Laura been? Why wasn’t she keeping tabs on Derek? If she had lost track of him somehow, wouldn’t she have told Stiles? He knows that the only way for a beta to become an alpha is to kill an alpha, so maybe that’s what Derek had done. Maybe something had finally driven him over the edge and he’d murdered Laura.

Without thinking, Stiles runs back to his car and heads towards Allison’s house, fearing the worst. If Derek had been willing to turn one unwitting teenager, he’d surely be willing to turn another. When Allison looks down over the railing, Stiles breathes a sigh of relief before something else occurs to him.

“Do you know where Derek went?”

“Um, no?” She says skeptically. “He may have said something about finding Scott but I don’t really remember.”

Stiles doesn’t find Scott that night, nor Derek and though he would have driven around BH all night, a deputy certainly would have told his dad he never went home and then he’d be grounded for eternity. Instead he heads home and calls Scott’s phone every ten minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always appreciated and come visit me on [tumblr](http://a-mountain-ash.tumblr.com/)!


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely beta [thehyacinthgirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thehyacinthgirl)!
> 
> As you will notice, this fic so far is following along with all canon Sterek moments. If I keep going that way this fic could very well end up having like a bazillion parts. I’m totally down with that, since it’s really fun writing all of Stiles’s behavior in this different light, but I also want to know what you guys want since this fic wouldn’t have happened at all if someone hadn't requested I continue it. I would super duper appreciate it if you could comment if you’d rather have me write every canon scene or if you’d rather I gloss over certain things? Thanks and I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> Originally on [tumblr](http://a-mountain-ash.tumblr.com/post/150082142540/my-youth-is-yours-part-ii)!

Finding out the body was Laura sent chills coursing through every pore of Stiles’ body. He had only known her for such a short time but she had taken him in at a moment when she likely had less fortitude than had been in him. Her faith that he could one day help Derek through his own pain had been Stiles’s main source of strength through their years of separation. Now that she was gone and likely killed by Derek, he doesn’t know what to do. Stiles struggles to hide the signs of grief as he crawls through the steps of his evening after seeing Laura’s body in the ground. Pretending not to recognize her had been torture and he’d struggled to maintain some semblance of normalcy with Scott. In his distraction he bungled a lie with his dad and foolishly brought the wolfsbane with him as he drove Scott back home. Sleep doesn’t  come easily that night and Stiles tosses and turns as he recalls talking to Derek through the police cruiser cage.

The older man’s face had been set and bitter as he had stared fixedly back at Stiles through the metal cage. The boy’s insides squirm as he remembers the faint note of resignation he had struggled to ignore in Derek’s face. His eyes retained the same defiant expression they had had since Stiles had seen him in the woods the day he’d returned Scott’s inhaler, but there had been a new set in his jaw, not of guilt or satisfaction at killing his sister, but of complete acceptance of his fate.

His fate, apparently, was to be found not guilty, however, because as Stiles learns right after the lacrosse game, the wounds on Laura Hale’s body were determined to be decidedly animal in nature. Stiles wants to be thankful that Derek isn’t in jail, but he can’t find it in him because now he’s afraid and that was never something he wanted to feel towards Derek.

When Scott proposes asking Derek to be his werewolf teacher, however, his fears rise again. Not only because he doesn’t trust Derek to help Scott the right way, but because the more more entangled their lives become, the harder his secret will be to maintain. As such, he does his best to discourage his friend but Scott won’t have it. Derek is going to help him and that’s final. Stiles realizes as his friend walks away that he’s going to have to become an incredibly good liar very quickly.

The whole matter is further confused when Scott comes over, clothes completely tattered, the night Garrison is found dead, and tells Stiles that Derek had finally explained everything, including the confounding points that he was neither the alpha nor did he have any idea as to the identity of the alpha. Scott’s yellow eyes and Derek’s blue eyes are the color of beta werewolves; the alpha has red eyes. Laura had come back to Beacon Hills in search of the alpha, which had ultimately gotten her killed, and Derek had simply followed in an attempt to find her.

While Stiles is deeply inclined to trust Derek, the bit about Laura looking for the alpha confuses him. She would have had no reason to come searching for an alpha when she had abandoned Beacon Hills and therefore had no “claim” to the territory. Further, Stiles’s in-depth knowledge of the murders and assaults in the town confirmed that she was the first in the growing string of attacks. All this together, leads him to believe that Laura did not come to find an alpha at all, as Derek believes, but perhaps her death created a new one. He is distracted from his homework by the thoughts that perhaps Laura had returned to Beacon Hills to reunite him and Derek, but her mission had been violently cut short.

The sureness that Laura had definitely returned to find Stiles claws at him for days and he repeats his mantra over and over while he writes out every possible answer to every possible question he might ever be asked about Derek that will ring true without being complete. Laura may be dead but she accomplished her mission of reuniting him with Derek and Stiles isn’t going to mess up his chance to someday tell Derek the truth by scaring him away before they trust each other again.

Every intricately schemed lie intended to preserve the future crashes around him when Derek falls to the pavement, ashen and with little control of his shift, in front of the Jeep. Stiles has no idea what’s wrong with the werewolf but he looks on the brink of death and it takes everything in Stiles to hide his terror. He bawks when Scott lifts Derek’s half limp body into the Jeep’s passenger seat, feeling utterly helpless as to how to keep Derek alive.

Derek pulls his jacket off and Stiles looks over to see blood seeping through his sleeve. He’s overcome simultaneously with apprehension about what’s happening to Derek and nausea at the sight of the growing blood stain, which allows him to very honestly complain that Derek better not bleed on his seats. If he did, Stiles would definitely get woozy and driving would be out of the question.

“Are you dying?” He asks urgently, attempting to hide the rabid fear crawling inside him as he pulls over to demand (plead) that Derek tell him he’ll be fine.

“Not yet. I have a last resort.”

“What do you mean? What last resort?” Just as Stiles’s mind finds a little peace that perhaps Derek has a solution to his situation, Derek pulls his sleeve up to reveal a massive gunshot wound that is darkly purple and oozing black blood. “Oh, my God. What is that? Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out.”

Stiles kicks himself internally at the insensitivity of it all and hates that pushing Derek away is the only way he has of ever getting him back. He hates the cruel words that he forces out so casually like Derek is just an insignificant speck in his rather empty life, left that way by Derek himself. It’s incredibly unfair to the werewolf, currently possibly dying in his passenger seat, to treat him as another expendable inconvenience and in this moment Stiles wishes he had a reputation of being a nice guy because then it wouldn’t be suspicious to simply help Derek without question.

“Start the car. Now.” Derek says gruffly. He’s slightly out of breath and his voice is quiet and Stiles feels his heart rate quicken in the same way he remembers from the day he watched his mom die.

“I don’t think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead.” His anxiety is running away with his mouth and he can’t stop the cruel word vomit leaving his lips. What if Derek dies and all he knows of Stiles is that he’s a heartless, selfish kid? What if Stiles is so focused on preserving what he might get back in the future that he bloodies the present.

“Start the car, or I’m gonna rip your throat out… With my teeth.”

The threat gives Stiles pause as he wonders if Derek really would kill him and he takes advantage of the opportunity to shut his mouth and comply, simply driving around until Scott replies and tells him where he should take Derek.

“I don’t know where to take you.” Stiles admits more quietly than usual after he’s been driving with pretend purpose for almost fifteen minutes. He’s not sure who he’s trying to fool since Derek definitely knows Beacon Hills just as well as he does and Stiles is currently driving in the direction of nothing helpful.

“I know.” Derek replies. It’s an uncharacteristically calm answer and Stiles wonders if Derek is fading too quickly to find anger any longer. He really just wants the angry Derek back if that means getting to keep him at all.

“Is-is Scott who you went looking for first?” Stiles isn’t sure why he asks. He doesn’t really want to know the answer. “Is Scott your pack?”

“Yes.” Derek’s answer is gruff, as though it frustrates him to answer. “And no. He doesn’t want to be.” Stiles can feel how the answer physically pains Derek and his curiosity overcomes his caution for a moment.

“But…you want him…to be?”

“You know what happened to my family.” Is Derek’s answer.

Stiles’s chest contracts, horrified. “What? How do you-”

“I heard you in the woods that day.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. Sheriff’s kid, you know? I read the paper.” Rehearsed answer number one- check. As little detail as possible, as casual as possible. Derek just nods and they fall silent until Stiles’s phone rings.

Derek glares when Stiles says he’s starting to smell and Stiles feels his throat choke closed when he tells Scott the werewolf smells like death. He does. The scent of death hangs heavy in the car and the only way Stiles can keep himself from crying because it reminds him so much of the smell that hung in his mom’s hospital room is to force the words out as if they mean nothing to him. As if his world isn’t ending for a third time as he imagines losing Derek permanently. When Derek takes the phone and asks Scott if he’s found the bullet yet, Stiles can hear his friend through the over-loud speaker that no, he hasn’t found the bullet yet.

He carefully schools his face into neutrality when Derek says he’s dead without the bullet, but when Scott replies that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, his facade cracks. As Stiles’s eyes tear up he’s grateful that Derek is staring out the window and distracted by Scott because he’s sure he’s doing a terrible job of hiding his feelings. Dealing with the idea of Derek dying is one matter but knowing that his friend almost wants that is too much for Stiles. How can Scott be so cruel? How can he so casual say he wishes Derek, who they now know is completely innocent, were dead? Now Stiles is going to have to find some way to navigate between his surprisingly heartless and not-so-surprisingly naive best friend and Derek and he isn’t sure he has that kind of resilience in him.

Stiles walks carefully behind Derek as they walk into Deaton’s clinic through the back door. The werewolf looks as if he might topple over and Stiles wants to at least have a chance of catching him if that should happen. Derek holds out until he makes it to a pile of dog food bags where he finally allows himself to crumple. They look at one another and for just a moment Stiles allows himself to show the fear he feels. If Derek is going to die, he wants the werewolf to know that at least one person is sad about it.

He gets a text from Scott then with a picture of a box. Derek tells him that the picture confirms what he already knew. Without the bullet he is most certainly going to die. Stiles helps him to his feet and shudders when he feels how deathly cold the older man is, as though all his heat is being sucked out through the steaming wound.

Derek staggers around the clinic, searching through doors and containers until he comes away with a tourniquet. Stiles unabashedly stares as the werewolf pulls off his shirt until his attention is torn when he realizes Derek is tying the tourniquet about his massive bicep.

“Okay. You know, that really doesn’t look like anything some echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn’t take care of.” He’s definitely just trying to convince himself Derek will be okay now. Derek’s looking at him like he’s insane and he probably is going a little insane right now because he knows why Derek is tying the tourniquet and he can’t accept what he has to do now. He’s saying ridiculous things to Derek as the werewolf tries to convince him he’s dying, tries to convince Stiles that he has to help him.

I have to do this. Stiles says in his mind as out loud he says, “Ugh. Look… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Derek threatens to cut off his head.

“Okay, you know what, I’m so not buying your threats any–,” Stiles starts to say even while thinking, God I need you to threaten me every day of your life from here on out if-

His thoughts and words are interrupted by Derek pulling him across the table by his shirt until they’re face to face and Stiles can smell Derek’s breath tainted by the wolfsbane and the ash of the Hale house. It throws his mind back to the day he met Derek and the older boy had held his face close as he pulled pain from his body in the woods and Stiles had catalogued that smoky scent that seemed to pervade Derek’s entire body.

Stiles babbles on that he’ll help but Derek is suddenly leaning over the table and vomiting thick black liquid onto the floor and his stomach lurches at the smell of it mixed with Derek’s agonized gasps. When the werewolf is done he shoves a handsaw into Stiles’s hand and the boy holds his breath as he presses the blade to Derek’s skin. He’s just about prepared to turn it on when Scott bursts in and he drops the saw, backing away in relief.

After some pointless chattering, Derek cuts through and asks if Scott got the bullet. Stiles’s stomach loosens as he sees his friend produce the object. Just as Derek begins explaining how it works, his eyes flutter closed and Stiles’s gaze follows in horror as Derek’s knees give way beneath him and the bullet slips from his fingers as he crashes to the ground.

“Derek! Derek!” Stiles hears himself crying as he lunges down to lean over Derek. “Come on, wake up.” Stiles cradles Derek’s face in his hand, slapping it occasionally to try and wake him up. You have to wake up, you have to. I haven’t gotten to help you remember. You don’t even remember that you know me. You don’t even know you’re dying with loved ones.

Stiles can’t say any of it aloud as Scott struggles to get the bullet out of the drain, so he just keeps trying to wake Derek. When Scott cheers that he’s gotten the bullet, Stiles makes one last effort and punches Derek in the face, hoping he can make it hurt enough to bring consciousness.

Derek’s eyes stutter open and Stiles lets his head sag in relief when he asks weakly for the bullet. He breaks the casing open with his teeth and burns the wolfsbane that pours from it. Stiles cringes as Derek stuffs the ashes into his wound, crying an excruciating sound as he falls to the floor, writhing in pain. Stiles watches the man’s muscles contracting as the black lines recede and the bullet wound slowly closes up.

He says something inappropriately excitable in his relief at seeing Derek alive and glaring which earns him an even more sour look and he secretly catalogs it away as one of the most comforting looks he’s ever received. Scott ruins the moment by telling Derek he wants him to leave them alone in exchange for saving his life. Stiles wants to throttle his friend’s throat for daring to equate Derek’s life to the fragile teenage reputation he knows is worrying Scott, but he stays still and silent because any move and and any reply would give him away.

The evening is late and Stiles realizes his dad will be home soon and he needs to get there first. He doesn’t want to leave Derek with Scott but he does, because he has a plan, more resolute even than his ten-year-plan to win Lydia’s heart, and nothing is going to ruin it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always appreciated and come visit me on [tumblr](http://a-mountain-ash.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally on [tumblr](http://a-mountain-ash.tumblr.com/post/150082284400/my-youth-is-yours-part-iii)!
> 
> Thanks as always to my lovely beta [thehyacinthgirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thehyacinthgirl)!!!

Stiles isn't really opposed to Scott learning from Derek and he really does think that Derek knows exactly how to teach Scott. He just doesn't think Derek is in a head space to tolerate Scott’s teenage angst and Scott isn't mature enough to understand Derek’s grieving process. Stiles remembers what Derek was like on his happier days before the guilt and the grief took control of him and he would have actually been an amazing teacher for Scott had he managed to heal properly.

That particular thought twists a knife of guilt in his gut as he recalls the insensitive things he has said to maintain his facade. All he truly wants is to just hold Derek and let him cry like he did one time those six years ago. Derek had gone back to the house, despite Laura’s warning him to stay away, and when he didn't show up to dinner as he did everyday, she had told Stiles to wait at the hotel while she went looking for him. Laura was a good sister, but even at that young age, Stiles had known Derek didn't want to see her and he knew there was only one place Laura wouldn't immediately expect him to go.

Stiles found him sitting in the tree where he had been watching the memorial from. ‘Go away, Stiles,’ the older boy had said, but Stiles simply proceeded to climb the tree with exaggerated struggle until Derek released a heavy sigh and reached down to pull Stiles up the rest of the way. Tears clung at his eyelashes and streaked his cheeks with moisture and Stiles knew it was bad if Derek didn't even bother hiding it. ‘What happened?’ he remembers asking quietly, his hand shaking as he had reached out to wipe off Derek's cheeks with his palm. A choked sob escaped Derek's throat when he tried to speak so instead he reached into his pocket and pulled a charred Tigger keychain from his pocket. ‘Cora’s,’ he had explained with great difficulty before a new sob broke through his control and his body shook with the force of it. Without properly thinking, Stiles maneuvered himself carefully from his place on the large branch and onto Derek's lap where he buried his face in the older boy’s and crushed him in as tight a hug as possible.

Derek hadn't reciprocated at first, passively allowing Stiles to cling to him, but when Stiles had begun to cry as well his arms had closed in around the smaller boy. They stayed there far longer than intended and Stiles eventually fell asleep in Derek's lap. He woke briefly when the older boy jumped from the tree and shifted him onto his back and once more when Laura wrapped them both in a worried hug. They'd been gone for hours, Stiles realized as they finally sat down to dinner, but it had been worth it when Derek smiled goodnight to him.

Stiles is jolted from the memory by a locker door slamming nearby and he figures out how to keep Derek out of Scott’s life. Pummeling Scott with the lacrosse balls is fantastically cathartic and while Scott struggles to control his anger, Stiles finds his Derek-fueled anxiety falling away for the first time since the werewolf had returned. The experiment is partly a failure, but Stiles feels better than he has in weeks.

When they finally get out of detention later that evening, Scott rushes off to work and Stiles heads home to fix some dinner for his dad. He's cut short, though, by a call from Scott asking Stiles to pick him up at the clinic. His heart pounds uncomfortably when he sees Derek standing over a bound and unconscious Deaton sitting in the back seat of the Camaro.

“What is this?” Stiles demands, not sure if he should direct his anger at Derek or Scott.

“Derek thinks Deaton is the alpha.” Scott answers, his tone obviously mocking and skeptical.

Stiles let his eyes flick over to Derek, who stands defensively in front of Deaton but looks calmly back at Stiles with a sense of sureness he has never seen. In an unusual breach of his personal commitment to distrust Derek, Stiles shrugs and nods once decidedly.

“It's reasonable logic.”

Scott looks over at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me? You're siding with him?”

“I'm not siding with anyone,” Stiles snaps back in a rush, “but it's a decent possibility. You told me yourself that Deaton seems to know something and he keeps you really close.”

“You're agreeing with Derek based on that?” Scott asks.

“No, Scotty. I'm saying it’s a possibility that needs testing.”

“Testing?” Derek asks.

“Look, just get in the Jeep, Scott. Follow me, Derek.” He rushes into his car and shuts the door before Derek can smell any of the fondness he’s likely beginning to exude because of their newly developing cooperation. Once upon a time, Derek had been very bad at pretending he couldn't smell every single one of Stiles’ emotions and Stiles had inadvertently learned everything about chemosignals.

At the high school, Stiles grabs some bolt cutters from the back of his bizarrely well stocked car and tells Derek to stay and guard Deaton. He breaks the lock on the front door and leads Scott to the office where he tells his friend to howl into the mic. After one embarrassing failure, Scott succeeds masterfully and they run back out to find Derek glaring at them in frustration.

“I'm going to kill both of you. What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?”

“Sorry. I didn’t know it would be that loud.” Scott answers.

“Yeah, it was loud. And it was awesome!” Stiles exclaims, ignoring Derek's reprimand.

“Shut up.” Derek snaps back at him.

Stiles frowns petulantly at him and waves dismissively. “Don't be such a Sourwolf.” The old nickname slips through his lips before his filter begins to work again and he forcefully schools his face into as innocent an expression possible. Derek doesn't miss the blip in his heart rate though and he narrows his eyes briefly in confusion when Scott draws their attention elsewhere.

“What did you do with him?”

“What? I didn’t do anything.” Derek turns towards the Camaro and stops speaking as he sees the empty seat.

Stiles can see his features close off again as Derek prepares to defend himself when suddenly a giant set of claws pierce through his chest. Icy horror clamps down on Stiles’ heart as he watches Derek cough up blood shortly before being lifted and thrown limply against the school wall. Survival instincts immediately take hold and Stiles turns to run from the giant creature standing before them.

As he struggles to keep pace with his supernaturally endowed friend towards the school doors, the scene of Derek’s limp body forces its way into Stiles’ mind and he fights back the tears of sorrow and regret that threaten to overwhelm him. Laura hadn’t done everything she’d done simply for Derek to die before they were able to reunite. Stiles hadn’t trained himself for six years to lie and evade for Derek to die before he got the chance to tell the truth. But he had. Derek was dead and Stiles had to try and stay alive and it suddenly felt pointless.

“Lock it, lock it!” He hears Scott yelling beside him.

“Do I look like I have a key?” He shouts back, anger pulsing through him at the injustice that he can’t even have a moment to care that Derek is dead.

Derek is dead.

They’re running again, but he’s not even sure why they’re bothering. The alpha is just toying with them, like it toyed with Derek as it flung him against the school like a ragdoll.

“He killed Derek.” He finds himself arguing as they futilely try to barricade themselves within a classroom.

“No, Derek’s not dead. He can’t be dead.” Scott whimpers pitifully.

Since when do you care? Stiles thinks bitterly to himself. Derek might not be dead if Scott had cared. But he is dead. Telling himself makes it matter less, Stiles tell himself. Repeating the image of it happening makes it more like a bad movie he had to watch. “Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury. He's dead, and we're next.” Telling the cold, brutal truth will make it hurt less later. Stiles knows that isn’t true, but he does it anyway.

When Scott proposes calling the cops into the fiasco, his insides feel like they’ve been twisted with a knife and he shuts Scott down instantly. He can’t his dad too.

“What about Derek’s car?” Scott asks abruptly, changing tacks so quickly Stiles feels his head spin. They don’t have Derek’s keys. Derek’s keys are on Derek’s cold, dead body. He doesn’t want to think about that but he has to, because his desire to stay alive has revived.

“That could work. We go outside, we get the keys off his body, and then we take his car.”

“And him.” Scott insists.

Bile rises in Stiles’ throat and he swallows it down aggressively, thankful the effort causes him to sound sufficiently disinterested as he replies, “Fine. Whatever.”

When Scott announces that Derek is the Beacon Hills murderer, Stiles’ feels every muscle in his body stiffen in horror. Derek’s death wasn’t to be used as an escape goat. Derek’s death wasn’t to be followed by endless days of sensationalist journalism writing about the tragic boy turned serial killer after his family died in a fire. Derek’s death was supposed to be followed by a funeral attended by all those who had known him before and remembered him fondly. He wouldn’t even get a proper grave now, and insolent children would entertain themselves by throwing eggs at the burnt ruins of his childhood home. No one but Stiles would be able to remember him properly, and he would never be able to talk about it to anyone.

As Jackson demands he call his dad, the anger boils up within Stiles until the larger boy tries taking his phone and he retaliates automatically. Fury at Scott and the Alpha and grief for Derek course through his body and his fist connects loudly with Jackson’s jaw. It should hurt, the way he feels the skin over his knuckles split, but it doesn’t. It should feel gratifying, watching Jackson crumple away from him, but it doesn’t.

When they manage to escape, Stiles instantly scans the parking lot, searching desperately for the Camaro or Derek’s body, but neither is to be found. Did he survive? Did the Alpha take him away before the cops arrived? Uncertainty and morbid hope fills him as he quells the impulses to ask his dad where they put Derek’s body, because Derek isn’t dead. Not according to the story that Scott has cornered him into telling. Derek is alive and a sociopathic killer.

But he’s not, and only Stiles cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus guys! I'm currently in grad school, so writing time is spotty at best. I'm coming up on a break though, so hopefully I'll get a few more parts out during that time! If you've stayed with me, I certainly appreciate it and would love to know how you feel about the story so far <3
> 
> Comments always appreciated and come visit me on [tumblr](http://a-mountain-ash.tumblr.com/)!


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